This was our world. Sitting here, in the tatami room. Floor to ceiling sliding doors open to nature, the rushing rain dripping off our back porch roof into the grass of the backyard. Trees beyond, a forest there. Cool breezes coming in, the smell of wet dirt and water filling everything.

He started to be in distress a little bit ago. Breathing more shallowly, his eyebrows creased in pain. His jaw so tight. I noticed it, and he never said a word. Pretending he's okay. Not wanting to disturb the conversation going on. He admitted it when pressed, but the color in his cheeks showed he didn't want to.

Now he was on the floor with me, his upper body cradled in my arms. His legs straight out, comfortable. Nobu was checking him over, assessing. But, he wasn't a nurse. He's a medical assistant, so he was definitely limited in what he could do. Sana started to wheeze as Nobu checked his pulse, counting how fast it was going, beats per minute.

"It's too fast," he said. "I can't diagnose anything, I'm not allowed. I think your mom needs to come over here. She can better help him. For now, his inhaler might help." He stared Sana in the eyes. "Tell me what's going on. I know you don't like to admit it. But we're all worried about you. We can't guess at it. How did it start?"

It had gone from an evening of talking about Okinawa, and how we would go there. It was perfect, because Keitaro was here. We invited him to Okinawa, and he agreed immediately. He thought it was a good plan, all of us going there to work on the mini-album and what we wanted for our part in the tour. He was encouraged that we were all working together like this.

Towards the end of the conversation, Sana went into distress. I had my suspicions, but I couldn't diagnose, just like Nobu. Was it stress? Was it our talking about the mini-album and the tour again? We'd talked about this together in the hospital, but I understood if it still caused him stress. He'd told me that he thought it was beautiful that I wanted to perform again, to make music again. He said he'd try his best to make that happen. But, we can say all that we want to. The stress can still be there.

But, if it was true, this response worried me. Was he going to be stressed like this the whole time? What did that mean for his health? Stress has very real physical consequences. His heart. It had been doing well lately. But now...

He hadn't been doing well today, either. He was so tired. I was terrified, because what if he'd been tired for a reason and I thought it was just like any other tiredness? Had I let something slip through my fingers by being too casual?

Something was growing inside of me, a pressure going upward. It reached my throat, and I pressed it closed with everything I had. A sob was trying to burst out. Too overwhelmed. Too worried. Just like him.

Sawai-san was on the phone now, pacing the room near the doors to the kitchen. "Can you walk over? ...Yes, he's not doing well. We don't think we should move him, and the rain... Yes, he's not doing well enough. Yes, you can bring her, too... Okay. If you think there's things that can help, then you can bring... Yes. Okay. See you soon." She hung up. "Your mom's coming. Natsuko, as well. They're together. They're coming now in the car."

"Sana, how did it start? It'll help us understand what's wrong. Did your heart start to go too fast? Or are you not able to breathe?" Nobu was trying not to crowd him, but it was hard not to do. Keitaro and Masaki were sitting near us now, but all they could do was watch. Yami was going through Sana's bag, looking for his inhaler.

"My head hurts," Sana said quietly. Almost a whisper, no louder than the rain. His face filled with more color.

"Ah- I have Bufferin in my purse, one minute," Sawai-san said, making to dash out into the kitchen.

"Wait, wait, no. There's caffeine in that. I can't recommend that in this situation," Nobu said, raising his voice a little, his hand up at her. "We don't know what's wrong, either. We shouldn't give him medication that isn't prescribed."

"Oh." She stopped in her tracks.

"I don't want..." Sana stopped himself. I leaned in closer, his sweet bow touching the side of my face.

"What? Sana, what did you want to say?" I asked gently.

He hesitated, and turned his face to mine slightly. "I don't want to cause trouble." So close, I could see he was about to cry.

I kissed his cheek. "It's okay, honey," I said quietly to him.

He shook his head slowly. I wanted to do everything in the world to stop his pain. He was embarrassed. That was the last thing he needed.

"Should we call an ambulance?" Masaki asked, trying to sound casual, but it was easy to tell he was struggling with that.

Sana shook his head, and I saw his face crumble. He said something in English, and tried to turn in to me completely. His eyes were swimming in tears. My arms went around him. Nobu was finished in what he was doing anyway. I could hug him now.

Unexpectedly, Keitaro responded to Sana in English. My eyes went wide, forgetting he could do this. What followed was a conversation incomprehensible to me, except for a few words. Said so serious, but Keitaro's tone was very kind. Almost like a father would say these things. What were they talking about? I'd never heard Sana speak in English for so long. His way of speaking was so different. Quick, a flurry of words. Insistent, hurried.

Keitaro's face turned to one of surprise as Sana spoke for a long time. It was maybe ten seconds, but for the amount of English I was hearing from him, it seemed like forever.

"Tell them yourself," Keitaro finished, saying this in Japanese.

Sana shook his head slowly.

A knock on the door came, and Sawai-san opened the sliding doors to the kitchen. With this, the wind started to go through the room, because the front door opened, too. The breeze was unimpeded, going through the whole house. A tunnel. Suddenly, I realized how this house cooled during the Summer.

My mom and sister came into the room. My mom had a tote bag with her.

"It's okay now," she said, kneeling next to Sana and I. Masaki was closest to us, and scooted out of the way. Clearly concerned, and sorry for his suggestion. It was written all over his usually stoic face.

My mom took a blood pressure cuff out of the bag, and wrapped it around Sana's arm. Like this, she took over.

It was stress. No other explanation for it. We'd called Haru, who was at work, and explained my mom's findings. He wasn't having an asthma attack. It wasn't blood sugar, or something he ate. His blood pressure was elevated, and his heart was pounding. He had a headache. I explained to Haru about our previous stay at the hospital, and what that was caused by. I said we'd just been talking about the same subject, when this happened. He said it had to be stress, and the best medicine was to calm him. Talk about something else. Get him comfortable. Get his mind off things. If that didn't work, he'd be hospitalized. He was too fragile to play around with.

He didn't need to tell me twice.

Natsuko and my mom helped me get him into the car. We got soaked in the process, but it was worth it. Everyone else wanted to wait out the rain and stay behind, and assess what needed to be done inside the house as far as repairs or upgrades. I agreed to this, and we all said good-bye.

Now at my parents' house, I'd taken Sana to bed. He was comfortable, laid there under the red comforter. He had extra pillows. My mom had decided to give him Ibuprofen for the pain, and he'd taken some puffs of his inhaler to open up his lungs to support better breathing.

I was making circles with my palm on his chest slowly, trying to soothe him further, when he began to speak. Tears immediately ran down his cheeks at this.

"I didn't want to tell you. I forgot Keitaro speaks English. But, I had to get it out. I'm so stupid. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to tell anyone. But I forgot."

I shook my head, so worried for him. I slid down next to him, turning my body to his. My arm went around him, pulling him close to me.

"You can tell me anything. I love you. You're not stupid at all." I kissed his forehead. Was his head still painful?

"I was just saying that..." He swallowed. I kissed his forehead again, trying to encourage him. "I said, I accept that we're going on tour. I accept that it's important. I want to support you performing again. I want to do everything I can to make that happen. I want Lyra to perform again, too. But... But I know..." A small wheeze came up from him. He was getting too stressed.

"Slow down. Breathe with me," I said as gently as possible. Trying to show I understood, but I also wanted him to pace himself. Go slowly. My new mantra to myself. "Go slow. There's no rush."

Like this, we breathed together. I counted the beats in each one. We were doing well. I rubbed his back, watching his face. It was full of panic.

"I'm going to ruin everything," he whispered. "That's what I said. I'm going to ruin everything. Keitaro heard that, and told me that was ridiculous. That I was making everything possible. That I was creating, and that I can't ruin anything, because I was creating our opportunity to begin with. I didn't expect that."

He was definitely more calm now, saying this. What a beautiful thing Keitaro had said to him. It brought me pause, thinking about those words, weighing them and going over them.

Keitaro was completely correct. Would we be in this situation without him? No. None of the events that led to this opportunity would have happened without him. I thought about the sequence of events briefly, not wanting to think for too long. He needed my attention. But, I was momentarily stunned.

"I think he's right," I said. "What did you say for so long? You spoke to him for a while."

"I said I appreciated what he was saying, but I can't deny my illness. I don't know what's going to happen. What if I get sick during the tour? We'd be delayed. I'd be taking that opportunity away from you and Lyra. We'd have to stay in a particular city, and for how long? It's unpredictable. What are we going to do? And American healthcare is so expensive. I don't know what travel insurance will do, but what about those costs? I'm terrified. I thought about that while everyone was talking. I panicked. All that money, for what? It's impossible."

"If it comes to it, we'll pay. I don't want you to worry about this." My hand went into his bangs, smoothing them down. I applied pressure to his forehead, in case it was hurting. What he was saying was true. American healthcare. I'd forgotten it was a factor. It wasn't as if his care here was free, either. We didn't talk about his medical bills much, and my papa had taken these bills without a word from the mailbox. I didn't even see them.

"We can't pay. What if we get a bill that's six-hundred thousand dollars?"

My eyes widened. "Why would a bill be that much?" I chuckled, trying to show him it was ridiculous. How that kind of worry wasn't possible. What was he saying? It was going to be okay. If the bill was a few thousand dollars, I had that money. I could pay that. He wouldn't have to see the bill. We were married. I could pay it.

"A medical bill in America can easily rise to that much if you're as sick as me."

I rolled my head on the pillow, shaking it, smiling for him. "I promise it won't be that much."

"If it is that much, will they let us leave? What happens if we run out on a bill of that cost? Will we be allowed back in America? Will we be criminals? I- I think-" His breath was too fast. His eyes closed.

"Sana-a," I whispered, smoothing his hair down more. "Shh. Shhh. It's okay. That's not going to happen. Criminals? It's not going to happen. Darling..."

He started to cry while I was talking. "We'll be criminals, because I'm sick and we can't pay," he said. His face crumpled, just like before in our tatami room. He moved forward, his head going to my neck. My hand went up from his back, to the back of his head. Holding him there. Loving him.

"Shh. Shh. That's not going to happen. Shh," I whispered. I kissed the top of his head. "That's what you were worried about while we were talking about the tour today?"

He nodded a little into my neck.

"It's not going to happen. We'll talk to Fleeting World. We'll make a plan. They want us to go to America. If you get sick, they'll have our back. We'll talk to Keitaro about it. You heard what he said today. You're not going to ruin anything. You make everything possible. So, I know we're going to figure this out. You have to come to America with us, no matter what. Without you, there's no opportunity at all."

He sniffled, heaving his breaths. I held him tighter.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he said, barely audible.

I made tiny kisses on his head, rapidly. My eyes closed, considering what he'd just said. My other arm went around him from underneath, and I rolled him a little bit on top of myself. I held him like this, pressed to me. I nuzzled into his hair, needing him.

The weight of what he was saying was starting to make me feel heavy. What were the laws? He knew better than I did. Keitaro had been to America before. Did he know the laws, too? The truth was, I didn't know any of the answers this time. And what Sana was saying was terrifying.

Six-hundred thousand dollars. Could it be true? That was almost three times the cost of our house. Putting it in that perspective...

I shook my head, and put my mouth on his hair, my eyes open wide. I needed answers, and I needed them quick. I couldn't dwell. As I thought to myself, I realized who I could ask. And that was so much easier than dwelling. So much better than him worrying needlessly.

"I'm going to get my cellphone," I said into his hair. He didn't move. "We're going to call Yokohara-sensei right now, and ask her about American healthcare costs. We'll get to the bottom of this. I don't want you to worry. I don't want you to worry about anything anymore. Okay? We're going to talk to her."

He nodded into my neck. He sniffled again. I hugged him tighter. Needing to let him know, that without a doubt, it was going to be alright.